


Breathing in the Cinnamon Smoke, It's You

by nctinee



Series: Erlebnisse [19]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: ...kind of, Ambiguous Relationships, Asexual Huang Ren Jun, But it's for a second, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time Writing a Kiss Scene..., Kind of?? Idk man, Late Night Conversations, Liu Yang Yang-centric, Liu Yangyang is a Good Friend, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Then They Kiss, They have to talk about their problems first, They're friends that kiss sometimes okay, Thinking About Things, Uhhh..heh..heheh..heh, Underage Smoking, because I love him, for once, they're cute okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25986145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctinee/pseuds/nctinee
Summary: He could see an outline of the other against the moon on his roof, and a fading orange light of a cigarette placed in between his fingers. Renjun never smoked, not unless he was stressed and needed to take the edge off. He remembers seeing a pack on Renjun’s nightstand a few days ago; he probably stole it from his dad.(Their relationship had been a bit weird lately. He pretends he doesn’t know why, when he really does know. He was the cause of it.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Liu Yang Yang
Series: Erlebnisse [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1418836
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	Breathing in the Cinnamon Smoke, It's You

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with my 'Yangyang's up at 3 in the morning thinking bout stuff and listening to post-rock' agenda.
> 
> Anyway school starts in 5 hours and THAT is something I don't wanna think about so I wrote this. To those that pay attention to this series, I am rewriting "The Starboy and His Constellation" for *ahem* plot....reasons....so lookout for that :) I'm writing this really late and I'm tired so sorry if it's bad. Tell me if I made mistakes!! Enjoy!!

He doesn’t know what he’s doing here.

It’s another one of his nights where sleep evades him, and he’s left staring at his ceiling fan in discontent while watching the blades spin around. Usually, he would just lay on his bedroom floor and let his mind go blank, but tonight, he had decided he wanted to take a walk.

So he pulled on one of his sweatshirts, got his phone and his ear buds and snuck out of the house as quietly as he could, and somehow, he ended up at Renjun’s.

(It was 1 a.m. then. It’s 2:45 now.)

The street he lives on isn’t busy enough for cars and people to constantly walk by at night, so he was free to play some random hour long ‘sad songs’ video he found on YouTube as loud as he wanted, and walked on the curb with his arms outstretched to keep his balance.

He didn't let himself think while he was walking, he just kept his eyes glued to his dirty Converse shoes and tried to ignore the pounding that had started behind his eyes. One part of him didn’t want to go too far from home in case his mother woke up for an emergency shift and he’s not there, but another stronger part of him wanted to keep walking, to see what the town he’s lived in most of his life looks like when it isn’t bustling with people.

He needed something to distract himself with anyway, so he kept walking.

(He didn’t mean to end up here. He would’ve gone anywhere but here.)

He had passed by shops and stores that had their lights out and shutters drawn, and just kept walking until he was back in rural areas with family homes and white picket fences. He didn’t even notice he was in a familiar area until he saw a familiar car parked in a familiar driveway.

It was like an instinct to go to Renjun’s. When they had met three years ago in the beginning of high school, they had become instant friends. The Chinese Student Association brought them even closer, and he had met Sicheng and Dejun and their friends, and that led to him integrating into their big friend group like it was nothing. He was close to pretty much everyone (except maybe Taeil, he hadn’t seen the older much,) but Renjun has always been his best friend, and has been the person he’s gone to when he needed help. Coming here was pretty much ingrained in his brain.

He could see an outline of the other against the moon on his roof, and a fading orange light of a cigarette placed in between his fingers. Renjun never smoked, not unless he was stressed and needed to take the edge off. He remembers seeing a pack on Renjun’s nightstand a few days ago; he probably stole it from his dad.

(Their relationship had been a bit weird lately. He pretends he doesn’t know why, when he really does know. He was the cause of it.)

He took out his earbuds and walked to the side of Renjun’s house to the back gate, and pushed it open as quietly as he could.

He’s always liked Renjun’s backyard. Above-ground pool with a big deck, trees surrounding most of the fenced in area. He can’t count on two hands how many times he’s sat on the hanging swing under the big tree with Renjun’s laughter ringing above him with a smile stretched across his face, or how many days he’s spent with Jaemin and Donghyuck and everyone else splashing around in the pool. It’s just a nice place to let go, be himself, and not care what anyone thinks.

He shut the gate and made his way toward the big tree which was perfect to climb up it’s thick branches and lounge around, or in Renjun’s case some nights, perch on his roof and watch the stars.

(Renjun looked beautiful in the moonlight. He doesn’t usually use words like that, but there really wasn’t anything else to describe him.)

“What are you doing here, Yangyang?” The other had asked, smoke curling around his lips and into the night sky.

“I wanted to take a walk. Ended up here,” he answered shortly, taking a seat next to Renjun. He shoved his phone and ear buds in his pocket and brought his knees up to his chest to hug them. It was a little chilly for an August night.

The other had just hummed in response, taking another drag.

(Now they’re here, just sitting in silence. Renjun doesn’t want to talk, he can feel it, but he feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t say anything.)

“Why’re you out here? Smoking?” He asks, pulling the sweatshirt sleeves over his hands.

“I dunno. Felt like it.” There’s a chirp of a cricket below them, a gust of wind ruffles his hair. “Can’t sleep again?”

He mumbles out, “Yeah,” and they go silent again.

(Okay, the reason they’re awkward is because they’ve been dancing around each other for a while now, and he had made a move a few weeks ago that left both of them in a weird stand-still. He wanted to tell the other how he felt, but just didn’t know when the right time was.)

“You talk to your mom again?” It’s a stupid question, but he asks anyways.

“The hell do you think? Why else would I come up here?” The other snarks, finally looking over at him with dead eyes. If that isn’t a tell about how his conversation with his mom went, he doesn’t know what is.

“I’m sorry.” He’s said it enough times that it has no meaning now. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“You wouldn’t get it, you’re _normal_. You feel normal teenage things and I’m—like _this_. Nobody gets it, and no one tries to understand,”

“Then tell me. Help me understand. If your mom doesn’t _want_ to understand, then screw ‘er,”

Renjun doesn’t answer, just distracts himself by stubbing out the cigarette on the side of his shoe.

“Jun, I get that you’re upset-”

“-No, you don’t _get_ anything, Yangyang. My parents need me to be this, _perfect_ son that fits in this _perfect_ stereotype and yours—” he stops with a quick inhale, eyes darting up from his shoe and back down to the roof.

He hears the unfinished, _"don't care about you"_ that hits a nerve. He knows that his family's situation isn’t much of a secret to his friends, but that doesn’t mean he’s not sensitive to it. Most of his friends have seen first hand how robotic his father is, and have witnessed one of his mother's moods after she's had too much to drink after a shift, but that doesn't mean they can bring it up whenever they want. He knows that Renjun is just saying it because he’s mad, but it still hurts.

“My what, Renjun? Finish that sentence,”

“Fuck I didn’t—I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say, I know that being home isn’t easy for you, and I didn’t mean for that to come out,”

He sighs, already forgiven the other in his head, "I know,"

There's a lapse in conversation, neither too eager to speak. Renjun ties and reties his laces on his shoes while his mind runs his circles. He wants to ask, wants to know-

"-She's accepted that I'm gay, but not that I'm ace. If it's not one thing, it's another, right? I mean, my dad just wants proof on paper and not about my actual wellbeing and my mom wants this perfect white picket life for me with a girl and kids that I can't give her,"

"But?" He asks, because he knows there's more. From the way Renjun's voice gets shakier and smaller, he knows there's more to it.

"But I _want_ to give her it. To have kids and take care of people because it's what I know, what I've been told to do for years by them. They've conditioned me into thinking I'm," his voice catches, " _wrong_ when I'm not. I'm not wrong for not wanting a family. I'm not wrong, I'm not... I'm not wrong for that, am I Yangyang?"

The look Renjun gives him is one he swears he'll never forget, the torn look in his eyes and trembling lip burned into his memory forever. 

Renjun is never one to show what's hurting him, to be vulnerable in front of others, and the fact that he's up here in front of the hurting boy, who's so plainly showing his pain, speaks volumes.

He pulls the other into a hug, Renjun's arms immediately circling around his middle and squeezing tightly while his arms rest on the smaller's shoulders. "Renjun, you are _not_ wrong. You are _exactly_ who you're supposed to be, and your parents can never take that from you. Only _you_ can decide who you want to love, if you want to love at all, and I hope you know that we will support you, no matter what,"

He hears a shudder when he's done speaking, tears falling onto his sweatshirt where Renjun has buried his face into his neck. He moves his hand up to rub the back of the other's head, whispering comforting words while they sway back and forth. 

The wind stops during their embrace, and the world falls silent as they comfort each other. He feels oddly peaceful as Renjun's sniffles stop and his eyes dry and they just rest against each other, limbs tangled tightly together.

Renjun does pull away eventually, but stays close enough that he can feel his breath on his face, smoke and cinnamon mixing together into a scent he knows so well. 

It's here that he wants to say that Renjun is the most beautiful person he's seen, that his heart never listens to his head when the other's around, that if they don't figure this _thing_ out between them he might just go _crazy_ , but he doesn't, because Renjun is whispering, "Can I kiss you?" and he feels his brain stop working.

He wants to say something stupid, say, "I dunno, can you?" and see how far he can go without pissing off the only person he's ever liked (that's a lie, Mark was the first, Sicheng the second, Jeno the third), but he can't get his mouth to move so he nods his head slightly and closes his eyes, hoping and praying that he isn't dreaming.

He doesn't feel the fireworks that people talk about when they kiss the person they like when they brush lips the first time, or when Renjun moves a little closer and it's a soft press instead of a brush. The third time though, he unfreezes from the nerves and puts his hands on the other's waist, thumbing at the material of his t-shirt.

They continue on like that, just small pecks and hands moving from shoulders to necks to waists, no rush and no worry to ruin the pleasant atmosphere they've created. The world is still quiet, and the sky is still dark as they maneuver around each other like planets in orbit. 

It's the most free he's felt in a while, and it makes sense that when he's with Renjun.

But eventually they tire, and in between huffs of breath Renjun whispers, "Stay with me?" and who is he to say no?

(He lied before. _This_ is when Renjun's most beautiful, curled into his side with messy hair and a tiny smile on his lips, eyes and hands tracing the stars. He has no reason to hide, no reason to be someone he isn't. He's free, and they're together, and that's all that really matters.)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is SO BLAND but whatever. It ties into the story so *shrugs*
> 
> The music Yangyang listens to is "sweden by c418 except it's kind of sad and very nostalgic 1 hour version" because I was SAD when I started this
> 
> (Note the JenYang!! I rlly wanna write a separate fic abt them because they're cute and that tag is dry as fuck. If someone wants me to write something abt them in this series or separately, lemme know!! I'll do it!!)
> 
> Ugh it's 2:30 enjoy my RenYang spill and the no-doubt horrible kiss scene. I've never written one before so I hope it's okay?? And I've got school now so updates will stay the same? Probably? I hope so anyway, because I've got some drafts I need to finish. Hope y'all have a good day/night!!


End file.
